


Sunshine Of Your Love

by CacoPhoniA



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, forgive me if i didnt get the setlist right, woodstock au bruh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CacoPhoniA/pseuds/CacoPhoniA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>t's August 16th, 1969, and your Woodstock experience has been satisfactory, to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunshine Of Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any weird inaccurate info here i just really wanted to write this au;;

It's evening when you wake up, and the rain has stopped but the concert hasn't, the rumbling bass of Jefferson Airplane punctuating the air outside of the van. John is asleep with wilting daisies tucked into his hair, probably a gift from Jade, who is probably still awake and dancing with the masses. You want a cigarette immediately upon waking up, but allow yourself a minute or two to stare at John and the scene outside the van windows, at the retreating sun that had only come out a couple hours ago. 

You're bogged down and groggy from the weed you smoked earlier, and apparently John was still sleeping it off. He giggled like a madman when high, and it must have taken a lot out of him, because he passed out on Jade with a dopey, looney-tunes smile on his face. 

Now he stirs when a group passes by, a couple singing loudly and off-tune but full of joy, either from weed or LSD or otherwise. Still, it causes John to wake up, and he slots his glazed-over cornflower blues at you, staring before breaking into a tiny, fucking tired smile. 

It's August 16th, 1969, and your Woodstock experience has been satisfactory, to undermine it a little. 

 

-

 

"Dave we have to go, Grateful Dead is on, we have to go!" John nearly yells this at you over the crowd that you two had been thrusted in. 

It was dark when the both of you finally got around to getting up, the current band doing its last song when you'd tried to go look for Jade, but there was no telling where she went, not with the insane amount of people that were camping out here. Instead, John had looked around for another tent with weed, an easy feat when all he had to do was bat his baby blues at anyone who happened to look at him. Truthfully it was sorta embarrassing, but you didn't blame the guy who just straight up let John take a hit off of his joint when asked. John had gotten the adorable genes the Egberts seemed to carry, and he could use it in times like these. 

Anyway, it got you two high, so whatever worked. 

And now he's tugging at your arm, making part of your tunic slip down with every tug. He was dead set on seeing Grateful Dead play, not from the back of the crowd, but from the front, which was where he was pulling you at the moment. It's dark all except for the lights surrounding everyone, and John was nearly pulling your arm off because "They're already two songs in, they're playing Dark Star, hurry up!" 

With time and more struggle than necessary, you two are all but squished in the front, and you're more dazed than anything by the lights and the close contact, John pressed up against your side and singing loudly along with Jerry Garcia as some long-haired girl maneuvers herself around you. 

If you had a camera, you'd be taking pictures. This was more John's scene than yours, and you wanted to get some pictures of him like this, fucking stoned out of his mind and happy in the rain, which was soaking through his nearly-sheer white shirt. Of course, you were wet and high too, but you probably didn't look nearly as good as him. Jade probably looked close to the same, wherever she was, and you knew you looked like a drowned rat. No one seemed to mind, though, because they were all swaying and dancing as if no one was around. Even John had those long piano fingers in the air with his eyes closed, swaying back in forth like nothing else mattered. It was damn nice, to be blunt. 

Damn nice, until the amps overloaded and the music stopped altogether. John's eyes snapped open like one of those wind-up baby dolls, looking all disappointed, and the moment was drenched like the stage and all the people. 

 

-

The motions go through as such: listen to the concert, dance, get high again. John doesn't seem to have much of a problem with it at all; in fact, this is the most unhinged you have ever seen him.

He throws his head back when he laughs and just wheezes when he runs out of air, and he cries with laughter.

When he dances, his arms go up in the air and his smile is ever-present, tan stomach showing as he sways and moves his arms, and he just seems so happy and so in tune with the music playing late (or early) into the humid night. You don't bother dancing with him even though he tries to pull you off of your spot on the wet grass, whining about how you just needed to dance. No, you preferred to watch, and you told him so. It made him laugh for some reason, but you supposed it was from whatever he'd taken. Anyway, you were comfortable where you were, cigarette in hand and watching your friend move his hips like water. 

 

-

 

Three hours later you two are huddled in the van, John cuddled up to you and snoring, Jade finally back and curled up under one of the quilts she'd brought with her. Personally, you thought it was too hot for a blanket, but Jade also didn't have John laying all over her. 

The rain on the roof of the van is nice, and your high has already worn off, leaving you tired and ready to drift off. The music outside the van is indistinguishable and quiet, most likely dying off from water in the sound equipment, but it's perfect for sleeping, especially with your friend next to you.


End file.
